


can't let you go - trevor zegras

by penaltbox



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: College Hockey, F/M, Hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penaltbox/pseuds/penaltbox
Kudos: 1





	can't let you go - trevor zegras

“this is bullshit, trevor!” you yell, pointing your finger at him. 

you know exactly what you’re doing and so does he. you were pushing his buttons to get a rise and boy was he giving it back. 

“you’re being so hard headed about this for no reason! you need to calm the fuck down,” he crossed his arms, letting you step forward and poke him in the chest. 

“i’m being hard headed? have you met yourself zegras? you’re unbelievable. absolutely un-fucking-believable,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. 

“oh get over yourself. you’re just pissed that i’m leaving and you don’t want to talk about it,” he crowds you back against the wall, a hand boxing you in on either side. 

“i’m not talking about boston right now, trevor! you said you’d give me one night while you’re back to not have to think about that,” you spit out, feeling the tears burning hot in your eyes. 

he knew better. this is exactly why you were fighting, but he knew better. you didn’t want to talk about the fact he’d be over 800 miles away but here he was, bringing it up and causing yet another argument over things. 

“we are talking about boston!”

“what do you want to talk about trevor? how you’re gonna double your number there, huh? yeah i heard you and spencer talking the other night. that’s fucked up trevor!” you try to push him away but he only takes a step back. 

“we were talking about hockey! i was talking about how many goals i’d score. why are you eavesdropping on our conversations?” he balks, tugging a hand through his hair roughly. 

“fuck off. you’d be pissed if i said something like that about michigan and you heard it wrong.”

he laughs then, glaring a little, “what, you gonna have beecher help you get under a michigan guy? that’s what you’re gonna do to get over me, huh?”

“trevor, stop it. i’m not going off to college to get with someone else. at least one of us is going to miss this,” you point between the two of you. 

“now you’re assuming i’m ready for us to be done? is that it?” he asks, crossing his arms. 

“i don’t want to keep arguing about this,” you mumble, wiping at a couple tears that had started to fall. 

he sees the rest of the tears that are threatening to spill and bites his lip. he stops for a moment and you almost feel like you can breathe again, but he’s not quite finished apparently. 

“you can’t just cry and get out of talking about this. we have to figure out what’s going on,” he says quietly, but the seriousness is still there. 

you shake your head, staring at his chest, “i can’t, trev. i don’t want to lose you yet.”

he lets his head hang and then he’s pulling you into him. your arms wrap tight around his waist as he gently sways you both back and forth. 

“i’m still right here,” he whispers. 

you swallow hard, “but you’re not. we both know things aren’t okay. we’re no good for each other, are we?”

“what do you mean?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching together with confusion. 

“we always fight. we always argue,” you look up at him, “things were so great when this started, but what are we doing now? spending our last two days together before college arguing all night?” 

“baby, come on. i know we don’t always do things the conventional way, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t good together,” he frowns. 

“we’ll never be the good couple. we won’t be high school sweethearts like cole and abby. it just isn’t the same for us,” you shrug, stepping away from him. 

you immediately wrap your arms around yourself, trying to stay as warm as he always kept you. he reaches forward, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear out of habit. he looks upset now too, genuinely upset. 

“so what, are we calling this quits then? we’re just gonna let it go?” he ask, scratching the back of his neck. 

you frown, looking up at the boy who stole your heart all those months ago. you guys argued, yeah, but he was also your best friend during that time. your movie date, you facetime study buddy when they had a roadie, and so many more things. he was your favorite person. 

“maybe we need to. i don’t want to, but maybe it’s what we need,” you nod, trying to convince yourself just as much as him. 

he takes a deep breath and nods back. you know he doesn’t agree, but you don’t want to argue anymore. the last two months had been nothing but arguments. it was like someone stole the trust from between you two and you were left pointing the finger at each other for it. 

he steps forward and kisses your cheek, his hand resting on your hip, “i love you.”

“i love you, too,” you say. 

you mean it. you always did, and so did he. 

—

you didn’t get any sleep that night. once trevor left you had an absolute breakdown. your bed still smelled like him, his shirt was still yours to sleep in, and he was still your phone background from a party four months ago. 

but you also promised him and the boys you’d be at their final game. you don’t wear one of trevor’s usa sweatshirts though, and you rifle through your closet for the better part of an hour before you decide what works in its place. 

you’re anxious as you head into the arena. you weren’t sure if he expected you there and you weren’t sure what that meant for the two of you. but you weren’t missing the game either. 

you find that johnny and matt are sitting out that game, taking up the seat between them. they exchange glances when they think you aren’t looking, but you notice. they can tell something is wrong. 

it’s a rough game that the boys somehow get a win out of. trevor got an assist, but he got a penalty as well. of course he did. that was such a typical game for him. 

it feels wrong to wait after, but it feels wrong to leave, too. you never left without seeing him and telling him you were proud of him. you have to remind yourself that things weren’t the same though. you have to practically running out of the arena, letting yourself get swept up in the crowd as everyone heads out. 

the ride home goes by in a blur and stepping into your bedroom you see all the signs of him that were still there. you should have just waited after and talked to him. but you were the one who called it off so you couldn’t act like everything was just fine and normal. 

you mindlessly clean up a little, trying not to focus on anything for too long. it’s dark by the time you slow down and your phone going off catches your attention. the name flashing across the screen makes your breath catch in your throat. 

“trevor?” you answer. 

“i can’t do this. i’m not letting you walk away, i’m not letting this be done. i’m coming over right now,” he says. 

you can hear him shuffling and then a car door slams. he was being serious about this. 

“trevor, wait!” you say a little louder than necessary, trying to get his attention. 

“what? i’m not waiting!” he sounds like he’s been running and you almost laugh. 

“get off the phone now, take a breath, and drive careful. deal?” you say. 

he lets out a little laugh, “okay, i’m on my way.”

you pace for the next 15 minutes, knowing he was still near the rink. the adrenaline rushing through you makes you almost sick and you keep looking out the window for him. when you see the car turn down your street you rush downstairs, opening the door and standing there to watch him. 

he throws the car in park and jumps out, quickly walking up to the door. you try to say his name but he picks you up before you can, kissing you and kicking the front door closed. your legs wrap around his waist as you lean into him. he carries you in, heading for the staircase, but you pull back. 

“wait, two seconds,” you put your hands on his shoulders. 

“what?” he whines, stopping with one foot up on the landing or the stairs. 

“what are you doing here? you just rush over like a mad man and sweep me up, but why?”

he smiles then. a big, real trevor smile. it makes your heart skip a little and a small blush makes its way onto your face. 

“we are so many things. we fight, we push each other’s buttons, we piss each other off,” he says, to which you nod your head, “but we are so good, too. you know me better than anyone else. i don’t think i could imagine someone better for me. i’m not putting out a fire that doesn’t need to be put out. we have no reason to break up.”

you frown, thinking it over. he’s not exactly wrong. you’d both started fighting because you were worried that things could go wrong when you both moved to the next step in life instead of looking at the things you’d gotten right so far together. 

you give him a sheepish look then, “we had no real reason to fight, did we?”

“not really. we got so worried about what could happen instead of just talking about it. i think you just liked all the make up sex,” he laughs, giving you a few quick kisses. 

“okay, let’s go. take me upstairs,” you smirk, squeezing his face in one hand before kissing him. 

you move your lips to his neck, as he carefully heads up to your room, stopping your trail to leave a mark just above his collar bone. 

he hisses a little at the contact, “stretching my collar out and leaving a mark?”

you pull back to see him smirking before he turns to sit on your bed, keeping you on his lap. his hands make their way around, slipping into the back pockets of your jeans. when he squeezes your hips roll forward, causing you to whine a little. 

“you’re not just over to get your dick wet before you fly home in the morning, are you?” you ask, never missing the chance to try and get him a little pissed. 

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head at you, “god, you are such a brat, huh?” 

you smile proudly, nodding your head at him. you knew what you were doing, you just wanted to see him go through with it. 

“get up there,” he nods his head towards the top of the bed. 

you immediately follow, laying down and waiting for him. he slowly undoes the belt he’s got on, dropping it on the floor. 

“come on, trevor!” you whine impatiently. 

he caves and smirks, crawling up the bed to meet you. he leans down to kiss you hard, immediately working on getting your pants undone so he can tug them off, pulling your underwear with them. 

you grab at his shirt, trying unsuccessfully to get it off, so he leans back to do it himself. with the room above you, you pull your own shirt off, reaching around for the clasp on your bra. 

“no!” trevor stops you, his zipper on his shorts halfway down, “that’s mine.”

the possessive tone gets to you right away and your hands stop. you reach for him, trying to pull him back close. he slips his shorts off first, leaving you both in your underwear. 

he leans down, trailing kisses from your jaw down to the top of your bra. he reaches around and unclips it so fast you gasp a little. 

“since when?” you ask, mouth hanging open. 

“fuck, i don’t know, but don’t make that face at me. i’m not trying to cum in my underwear today,” he laughs, tossing the black lace behind him somewhere. 

you smirk, running your hands through his hair as he continues to work his way down, stopping when he gets his shoulders between your legs. 

“do i even need to do any work down here today?” he teases, hooking a finger under the only fabric left covering you. 

he lets out a low moan, his eyes falling closed. you can feel his knuckle dragging through the wetness and it makes you squirm. 

“trev, no. come on,” you moan, trying to scoot down the bed closer to him. 

he puts his free hand on your hip, sitting back on his heels. he tugs your underwear off and leans up, ripping the side table drawer open. 

he throws a few things around in it and you panic, looking over at him. he pulls out the condom packet, holding it up like a trophy based on the grin he’s wearing. 

“this is the last fucking one,” he says with a laugh. 

“you’re a disaster,” you laugh, “get back over here.”

he rips the packet open and gets himself settled back between your legs. he takes a breath and makes eye contact, waiting like he always did for you to give the go ahead. 

you nod quickly, sucking in a sharp breath as he presses in. he starts out slow, getting a bit of a rhythm going. he leans down, kissing you all over. 

he slows down for a second, looking down at you, taking it in. you wrap a leg around his hip as encouragement, but he stays still.

“jesus christ, zegras, you need to keep moving,” you say, digging your fingers into his back. 

he flinches, but does what you say, “okay, fine.”

you need him to just get this going again before you lose the build. luckily he seems to snap out of it, and his pace picks up enough that you’re getting close. he picks on all the little things he knows drives you up the wall, saying things you’d never repeat out loud even if someone paid you. 

he can tell you’re getting close and drops a hand between the two of you, working quick little circles to get you over the edge. you finish so hard you swear you see spots, his name a breathy moan falling from your mouth that makes him go sloppy for a few thrusts before finishing himself. 

he stays buried in you, rolling onto his back carefully so you can lay on his chest. his hand gently dances up and down your back as you glance up at him. 

“i’m sorry i ever thought i could let you go,” you tell him. 

he smiles down at you, his blue eyes bright despite the small amount of light in the room. he runs his thumb along your cheekbone for a moment. 

“i can’t ever let you go. i want to take you to boston and anaheim and back home to new york,” he rambles, “i love you so much it’s almost stupid. big fan over here.” 

you laugh, remembering how you’d used that line on him at one of the first parties you’d met him at. jack had pushed you over to him and gave the most brief introduction in history before leaving you two alone together. 

“i cannot believe you even remember that,” you blush, trying to hide your face in his chest. 

he kisses your head, “i thought it was adorable. i’ve been into you ever since, so it worked.”

“well good because now you’re stuck with me,” you smile. 

“i think i can handle that. even if you are going to michigan this fall,” he jokingly rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you picked boston. who does that?” you joke. 

he puts a finger under your chin, making you look up at him, “boston’s only a two hour flight, baby. we got this.”

and yeah... yeah, you guys did.


End file.
